The Red Eye
by herainab
Summary: On holidays from college Peeta decides to travel across Europe, discovering the beauty and the art of Europe. He never expects himself to fall for the stranger sitting beside him, a beautiful ballet dancer on her way to Paris. They both have a story to tell and find themselves drawing closer to each other than they to anyone else in their lives.


He checked his boarding pass for the thousandth time and navigated himself down the narrow aisle until he found his seat. He had hoped he would have an empty row, space to spread out and try and get some sleep on the 8 hour red-eye flight.

He followed the mother who juggled a sleeping toddler, two backpacks and guided a small child.

"Here, let me help you." He says placing his hand on her forearm.

She smiles a thanks and he takes the two bags from her as the child takes a seat.

He moves towards the back of the plane and finds his row, fifth from the back. A man, in his mid-thirties sits in the row behind.

The man looks up briefly and is quick to look back down again, with a brief acknowledgement.

He notices one of the seats in his row has been occupied. A woman with dark raven hair, braided in a long braid down her back sat at the window seat. She bites her nail as she reads her phone. She was attractive he thought and all his wishes about wanting an empty row were long forgotten, he was glad he got to sit in her row. She was young, in her late teens or early twenties.

He pulled his rucksack off of his shoulders and sat down in his assigned seat on the aisle as he riffled through his bag to find his kindle and iPhone. He set his rucksack in the overhead compartment and sat back down. The woman still yet to look at him.

He turned his phone off, wrapping his earphones around the device and slipped it into his jeans pocket. He felt eyes on him and looked up, finding a pair of beautiful grey eyes looking at him. Silver like the moon. They were nothing he had ever seen in his life before.

"You headed on a holiday?" He asks her.

She looks up from her phone. She shakes her head. "Home actually." She tells him with an American accent.

"Home? You're not from America?"

"I grew up there. Pennsylvania for 14 years then moved to Paris."

"You live in Paris?"

"I do." She tells him with a smile. "You headed on a holiday?"

"Kind of. It's a bit of a study vacation also." He tells her. "I'm in college, and I've just finished my third year. I've always wanted to visit the sights, experience the beautiful artwork and the culture. I've always imagined telling my travelling stories to my children, inspiring them to want to travel and see the world as wide eyed, curious beings. I was inspired by my uncle, he bummed around Europe for five years. And all of his stories just made me want to travel, especially to countries where English was hardly spoken." He tells her. She seems uninterested and he feels as if he is trying too hard.

The Captain's voice was heard on the intercom and he listened intently. Sure to listen to every word. He watched the hostess point out the exit. He buckled his seatbelt and settled into his seat. He was sure that would be the only words spoken. He was ready to settle in with his book or with a movie once they hit cruising altitude. He hoped he'd be able to settle down and sleep for most of the flight. Waking to the orange sky and close to landing, missing most of the flight.

He gripped the armrests hard as the plane started taxiing down the runway, ready for take-off. The woman he noticed her knuckles turning white from gripping the armrest too.

"Not a fan of flying?" He asks her.

She shakes her head. "Not really. I hate take off the most. And landing."

He smiles acknowledging the fear and just smiled at her. "Just look at me. Focus on me and the worst of it will be over."

She nods and a small smile stretches across her face as her breathing calms and her knuckles turn pink again. Her hard grip on the armrests loosened and gradually her fingers stretching out along the rest.

"Am I helping?" She nods and remains smiling. "What's your name?"

"Katniss."

"That's a lovely name. I'm Peeta."

And once the plane has found altitude and the seatbelt light off, Katniss has relaxed into her seat and her seatbelt undone. Peeta undoes his and slides into the seat beside her as she motions for him to sit beside her.

"So Peeta, where are you from?"

"Seattle. The city of rain."

"Yeah? Where are you studying?"

"Chicago. I'm studying business."

"You enjoy it?"

"Yes. Very much." He tells her, his eyes going wide. "Are you studying?"

"Yes."

"Let me guess, science?" He asks.

"No, ballet actually."

"Ballet?"

"Yes, that's why I moved to Paris. I've been part of the Paris Opera Ballet for the last five years. I love it." She tells him. "Does that surprise you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I just never pictured you to be a dancer. Like I said, you look smart, I thought maybe you were studying science, maybe medicine. You look like the kind of girl that would study medicine."

"Well, thank you but I'm just a dancer." She says smiling. "But no, I'm studying ballet, I have no interest in studying anything else, beside this ballet thing is quite full on."

"As long as you're doing something you love then that's all that matters." He tells her with a smile. "So what were you doing in America?"

"Work." She tells him. "I was cast as an extra in a dance movie, actually more as a double. So I've been in New York for three months, I missed out on the showcase but this was just an opportunity I couldn't pass up."

"There's always more showcases."

"Exactly and that's why I'm headed back to Paris now. Training for the next tour. I've been cast as the understudy."

"What are you performing?"

"Sleeping beauty. Yeah I know what you're thinking but it's the first time I'm playing the understudy."

"I think it's wonderful. It's an opportunity I know you'll cherish forever."

She nods with a smile and he's overcome with a feeling of warmth and wonder.

"So Peeta, what are you plans for after college?"

"I don't know yet. Probably go back to Seattle and work some more in my family's business and go from there."

"What business do they run?"

"A bakery. A very popular bakery. I've grown up learning all about bread and cakes and such. I think it's in my blood to go into the baking business."

"I bet there is more to you than just bread. What else do you enjoy doing?"

"I like art. I like painting and drawing."

"Anything else?" He shakes his head. "Well, I like dancing."

"Anything else?"

"I used to do archery but gave that up to focus on my dancing. It's an escape you know. I used to get lost in archery. I used to forget the world and just stood in the range for hours shooting arrows at targets but dance, when I danced I got to express my emotions through my art. Express it to the tips of my fingers or toes. Loose myself to choreography and the music and not be myself for the piece or for the whole show. I got to play someone I'm not and I don't mind forgetting who I am. It makes things easy." She says, her voice cracking.

Peeta watches her. She avoids eye contact. Looks straight ahead trying her best to still the tears that threaten to spill.

Peeta grasps her hands, squeezing it, telling her he is there. Hoping to reassure her that it is ok, he understands the feeling of wanting to forget. To pretend he is someone else when the pain gets too much.

"So, I need a suggestion. Is the Eiffel tower really worth checking out or should I just ignore it at all costs?" He asks.

She sniffles, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her stripped oversized sweater and turns to him. "You have to check it out. It's crowded with tourists but it's amazing. Sunset is the best time to go."

"You know, my favourite colour is orange? A sunset kind of orange."

"That's a beautiful colour."

"What's your favourite colour?"

"Green. Always has been. I just love the outdoors."

He smiles at her and lets her continue on.

When the lights start to turn off, people tucked into their chairs, blankets covering their laps and the passengers trying their best to sleep, passing the eight hour flight.

Peeta and Katniss don't sleep though. Sleep long forgotten, words being shared in the darkened cabin as they open up to each other. They share a blanket, covering their laps and a bag of pretzels.

"I'm an orphan. Well I was orphaned at the age of 13." She tells him. He lets her continue. "I had a sister, she was younger. Primrose. Named for the evening rose. She was beautiful. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. We didn't look like sisters but the shape of our faces, our lips and noses was enough to clarify the relationship. She took after my mother. I took after my father. Prim was into ballet as well and she was brilliant. I don't remember much of the accident. I was unconscious for a long while after it. Bits and pieces come back to me and randomly as well. In dreams, when I'm walking or dancing. There was an explosion at a café we were eating at one day. I had gone to the bathroom while my family waited outside for me. I never saw them again."

He squeezes her hand, drawing her closer to his body.

"I'm so sorry."

"I ended up with my guardian. He did everything in his power to get me to where I am today. He didn't let me give up my dream of dancing in a company. It was also Prim's dream. The two of us dancing for fancy companies, travelling the world. The first few months after I moved to Paris were hard. I was homesick and cried every night. I felt worthless and like I didn't deserve my place after what had happened to my family. It was one night, one of the girls who started with me crept into my room and help me while I sobbed. We became fast friends after that night, she opened up to me and she's always there to pull me forward when I'm slipping. There's good days and bad days."

"We all have them." He tells her. "I was abused as a child. Made to feel worthless and I still feel like I am. I am my own biggest critic. I never believe anything I do is wonderful. I criticise myself and find myself hating myself some days. I was diagnosed with dyslexia as well, my mother using that against me. Taunting me and teasing me every day when I struggled. It brought upon the anxiety and eventually the depression and feeling of being alone, having no one. She left when I was 15. And I was glad to see her walk out the door. I contemplated suicide so many times. I attempted once. I was in a really low point and it seemed liked the only option. I still sometimes feel like that, even now."

"Peeta." She gasps.

"I will never forget the look on my father's face when I woke up after my failed attempt. And I cried because the look on his face was heartbreaking. He had to cut his son down and I know that's what haunts his dreams. It's something you never want them to see and I never thought about that. I never thought about my attempt and how my family would find me. I still remember my eldest brother embracing me so tightly when I woke up. He cried. I had never seen him cry in my life until that day. And he made me promise him I wouldn't do it again. And I knew from that day, there was more to life. Things out there. Someone for me. And since then I've just kept fighting to make it to that thing, and feel whole."

He wipes the tears from her eyes and rests his hand on her cheek, offering her a smile.

"My mother couldn't work. Mentally, she wasn't in the right frame of mind to treat patients. She had endured the pain of losing a child. I had another sibling. He was born a year after Prim. My mother to this day still blames herself for his death. He was almost two. He was playing in our front yard with my mother, they were gardening together and she turned her back on him for a second, it happened quick and before she could react he had been run down by the neighbours. She couldn't revive him and when the paramedics arrived they couldn't revive him. From that day on, she sunk into a deep depression of pain and disappear. No one could convince her it wasn't her fault. It was an accident, unavoidable. But no one could pull her from the darkness she felt. Not even my father. So she spent her days lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Some days she was good. She'd have breakfast with us, see us off the bus and kiss us goodnight, those days I cherished the most. But the days she couldn't get out of bed were the worst. She eventually started to experience better days, mostly before she died which left me with good memories."

"What was he's name?"

"Milo, he was the mixture of Prim and I. He had my hair colouring and blue eyes. He had olive skin and loved being outside but was very sensitive and understanding at his young age. I was so thrilled at the idea of having a brother and I'm lucky I did get one. Even if it was for two years."

"He was lucky to have you as a sister Katniss. Even Prim. You're exceptional."

She quickly wipes the tears away from her cheeks and smiles a thanks. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and draws her to him, kissing her hair and comforting her the best way he can. She sobbed against his hold. Years of pain and hardship catching up to him too. Tears falling from his eyes as he remembers his hardships and thinks about the pain she's experienced also. It makes him feel closer to her, more understanding.

But he's not sure how but through the tears, they find their way out with laughter. The only way two pained people know how to. How to find the happiness in the darkness. He wiped the tears from her face and she did the same.

"I never imagined becoming close to a stranger so quickly." He jokes and laughter bubbles out of her mouth. An intoxicating sound that he could never get over. One sound that is so rare it's worth the rarity. A sound he'll cherish.

But in that moment, when the tears were wiped from their faces and jokes were shared they kissed.

A kiss they shared, right when it was supposed to. They didn't fight it. Their lips searching for each other, touching perfectly. Like two worlds colliding, they just let it happen. They didn't fight it. They explored it, explored each other's mouths. Tongues seeking entrance, lips needy for touch. Hands roaming over each other's bodies. Feeling each other, becoming familiar with each other.

They found talking not necessary. They talked less, finding no words as exciting as their kisses. Sentences cut off with the need to kiss the other.

"I, don't want this…" She starts to say but with him silencing her with his lips as words they spoke became unbearable, so excruciating to each other.

"Sing for me." He ask when they tear their lips apart.

_Are you, are you  
Coming to the tree?  
They strung up a man  
They say who murdered three.  
Strange things did happen here  
No stranger would it be  
If we met at midnight  
In the hanging tree._

She was unable to continue. The words halting as she choked up. The song, the meaning becoming too apparent to their situation.

He to, moved by the lyrics pulled her to him. Letting her sob soundly into his neck while he soothed her.

The night shifted to being the darkest and quietness, everyone asleep, curled into their blankets and pillows. Sleeping on loved ones shoulders or kinking their necks as they tried their best to get a little shut eye.

Katniss and he though couldn't fall into a slumber. They tried to sleep but were wide awake.

In the darkness of the night he looked at her. Stared into her grey eyes, eyes that had turned dark with lust and want. Electricity pumping through their veins, the desire becoming unbearable to not avoid. It was like he was her drug and he needed more than just her kisses, her soft touches.

His hands roamed her body. Her hands tugged at his clothes, sneaking underneath his shirt and up his abdomen. Goosebumps covered his body at her touch and he wanted her hands elsewhere.

"I really want to do this." She says softly.

"Me too."

"How?"

"We can do it." He whispers. "Everyone's asleep. We can be discrete."

She nodded and together they settled for a careful arrangement, she moving to straddle him, arranging the blankets around their bodies for their reckless fumbling.

His hands seeking her bare skin, working her oversized sweater off over her head, she worked the button and zipper of his jeans, slipping her hand inside of his underwear. He gasped at the feel of her hand and they continued to kiss and move their hands, seeking bare skin and the need to want to know what each other felt like. Her tank top soon was gone, his lips and hands tracing her chest.

He found her breasts and exposed them from the lacy black cup. His mouth moved over the newly exposed breasts, his hands squeezing and touching them. Katniss hiding her moans in the skin of his neck. He sucked and bit her skin, bringing on another round of mewls and moans. She found the skin of his neck, finding his pulse point and sucking on that as his hands slipped inside of her jeans, tracing the material of her panties. Her attack on his neck became more frantic as he slipped his hand inside of her panties. Fingers seeking for the heat of her core.

Her kisses became bruising on his mouth, moans being caught inside of his mouth the more pleasure she felt from his fingers.

"Please." She exhaled, pulling her lips away to stare into his eyes.

He nodded and her jeans and panties were discarded, his pants and boxers down around his ankles. They positioned the blanket over their laps and she sank down onto him. Moans of pleasure shared in their kisses of silencing each other.

In the darkness of the cabin they managed to couple. To find a rhythm of pleasure despite the internal emotions building up, knowing this would be it. This would be their first and only time together. They were two strangers with different agendas, from different continents. Even if the spark was there, this would be it.

They remain connected when they finished. Both breathless. He kissed his way along her collarbone as she came down from her high. They held each other and grieved for what they had formed shedding tears after the beautiful coupling. Something he knew he'd cherish forever.

The sky began to turn orange as we neared the aiport. Our time together slowly ending. We would land and fade into different countries. The world swallowing us whole. How would we find each other again? When would we find each other? They cried into each other's mouths as they shared kisses.

He held her as the lights come on and breakfast was served. He could see the worried look on her face through the redness of her cheeks. He too knew how red his face would be from all the crying.

They were too upset to eat. Their stomachs in knots. Tears still managing to fall down their cheeks.

"I can't do it. I'm not going." He says.

"No you can't. You have a life. You can't abandon it for me."

"Katniss, there's nowhere I'd rather be than with you. Screw college, screw travelling Europe. I want you and nothing else. There'll always be college and art but there's only one chance to be with you. And that's what I want, I want you." He tells her. "I'm coming with you."

And he'll never forget the look on her face. Her face was one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen in his life. A face he'll remember when bad news eats away at the world. When he is having a bad day. A face he'll remember for time to come or one he'll replicate in his drawings.

She kissed him hard, ecstatic giggles escaping her mouth as tears still fell down her cheeks.

They went from perfect strangers to runaway lovers in the span of eight hours.

Once the plane landed, he stood grabbing their luggage out of the overhead compartment. He made eye contact with the man who sat behind them and the men smiled at him. A hopeful and relieved smile. Peeta smiled back at him and let Katniss pass in front of him.

They stood at baggage claim together, an arm around each other's hips and our luggage trailing behind us. It could all fall apart in a matter of hours but he knew in that moment he wanted nothing more than to spend time with Katniss.

…

He left the plane, behind a couple, two strangers who fell in love in the space of seven hours. Two strangers who fumbled with blankets and made their love official. Who sobbed during breakfast and told each other of their lives, their hardships. It reminded him of years ago, when he was just a twenty year old college student, meeting Katniss who too had been through the wringer. Had experienced pain and opened up to him.

He wondered what would become of these two strangers who abandoned their plans and previous lives to be together. He wonders if something that wild, that reckless could work. He wonders if they'll make it. If they'll marry in a few years, move to Prague or London and live in a 200-year-old apartment and be expecting a baby. He'll wonder if the fire they built, the fire that has messed up their old lives will be cleaned up in time and they will still kiss like they did on that plane. He wonders if it will be perfect for them.

And once he recalls his life, meeting Katniss on that flight, he knows that there's a chance it will happen.

"Peeta!" He hears someone call out.

He whips around and sees her standing there. Her long raven hair braided, the braid occupying my daughter's hand. He walks fast towards her, enveloping her in his arms, finding her lips just like five years before.

He kisses his daughter's head and she smiles at him, showing off her two new teeth.

He turns around in time to see the couple navigating their way through the airport with their hands wrapped around each other's hips and he smiles to himself. Katniss catches his gaze and moves into his side, his arm wrapping around his two girls.

And in that moment Peeta knows, it's entirely possible for it to work. It's entirely possible for them to have a happy ending because he got his happy ending and the rest of his life in an eight hour plane ride.

It was sometimes worth gambling your plans to follow the girl you fell in love with on a red-eye flight across the Atlantic.


End file.
